


look at where we are, look at where we started (the fact that you're alive is a miracle)

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, five times one time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: five times people thought or under the impression that Barry and Iris were dating…and the one time they finally were





	

**_oh let me be part of the narrative,_ ** **_in the story they will write someday_ **

**_let this moment be the first chapter where you decide to stay_ **

**_and we could be enough, that would be enough_ **

* * *

****

**_one_ **

People used to make jokes about Barry and Iris, in the before. _Oh, they’re so cute together,_ visitors to the Allen or West house would remark, watching Iris and Barry play superheroes or do their homework together. _Is he/she Barry/Iris’s boyfriend/girlfriend?_

Henry Allen would smile politely and say, _They’re a little young for that sort of thing, aren’t they?_

 _Aren’t they precious,_ an acquaintance of Nora’s would say. _Do you think they’ll date when they get older?_

Nora would raise an eyebrow and retort, _Why should they worry about dating when they’re ten?_

 _Oh, Iris has a boyfriend,_ someone said to Joe once.

 _No, she’s got a best friend who is a boy,_ he corrected them firmly and that was the end of that conversation.

“What’s _dating_?” Barry  asked Iris once, because his mom and dad always told him it was okay to ask questions if you didn’t know something.

Iris wrinkled her nose. “I think it’s when you hold hands and kiss and stuff,” she said. “At least, that’s what my cousins say.”

“We hold hands when we cross the street,” Barry pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s different,” Iris replied. “Your _mom_ makes us do that, because _you_ cross without looking.”

“Not all the time,” Barry protested and Iris gave him a Look. At age ten, Iris West was about as good as her father at giving Looks.

Barry sighed and slumped over in the grass, under the tree in his backyard. “Do you think we’ll ever date?”

Iris fell over next to him. “We’re ten. Daddy says we have to be at least fifteen to date.”

 _I can wait,_ Barry thought. Even at ten, he was sure of this.

* * *

 

**_two_ **

In the after, Iris didn’t leave Barry’s side for almost three weeks. She’d held his hand during the funeral and the trial, slept besides him at night and tried to make sure, along with Joe, that he ate something regularly. Barry woke up more than once screaming from nightmares and Iris had curled up next to him, held him close and stroked his hair, murmuring as he sobbed after waking.

At the time, she’d thought nothing of it. This was _Barry_ they were talking about, her best friend who’d just lost both his parents in an unimaginable way, of course she’d do this for him. She’d stuck by his side at school too, glaring at anyone who got too close or tried to ask Barry questions about it, even teachers ( _especially_ the teachers).

Tony Woodward made the (essentially fatal) mistake of remarking, “So I guess it took your mom dying to finally get a date, huh Allen?”

Iris set down her backpack, pushed up her sleeves and tackled Tony to the floor, snarling with rage. It took three teachers and Barry to drag Iris off Tony, and that was after she’d given him a black eye and split lip. Iris had stood in front of Barry, teeth bared and knuckles bloody, and no one dared go near Barry for a week.  

“Thank you,” Barry said softly after, once they’d gotten home from the meeting with the principal and Tony’s parents, where Joe had listened in stony silence to Iris’s gritted teeth apology to Tony and his sullen one to Barry.

Iris squeezed his hand hard, not caring that her knuckles hurt.   

* * *

 

**_three_ **

“Are you and Iris dating?” Becky Cooper asked Barry during lunch, playing with the straw in her chocolate milk.

Barry jerked his attention away from his science textbook, blinking at her. “Sorry?”

Becky huffed, rolled her eyes. “Are you and Iris West dating?”

“Ummm,” Barry stalled, trying hard not to look around for Iris. She was late for lunch, otherwise she would’ve put a stop this line of questioning. “No? I mean, no we’re not dating. We’re best friends.”

“You live together,” Becky pointed out.

“Her dad is my foster dad,” Barry said, wishing he didn’t have to constantly explain this to people, it was not that complicated.

“So you’re like brother and sister?” prodded Becky.

“No,” said Barry exasperatedly, also wishing he didn’t have to explain this dynamic either, it was getting so old.  “We’re best friends, not siblings.”

Becky leaned back, smiling brightly, triumphantly, pulling her shoulders back. “So you’re not dating, then. You could date someone, if you wanted.”

 _There’s no one I want to date,_ Barry thought, but then he looked at Becky. Tried not to think of Iris. What was he waiting for, really? A chance that might never come?

“If I wanted to,” Barry said and that’s when Becky asked him out to coffee.

***

Iris frowned when he told her. “You’re going out with Becky Cooper?”

“ _She_ asked _me_ ,” Barry said, feeling weirdly on the defensive. “She kept asking me if we were dating, which I said we weren’t.”

“Because we aren’t,” Iris replied, looking back down at her homework on the kitchen table. “You can date whoever you want.”

Barry wished, with a kind of profound uselessness, Iris did not say it so matter-of-factly, like it didn’t matter very much to _her_. “I guess I can.”

He was out of the room when Iris muttered darkly under her breath, “Anyone except _Beck-y Coo-per.”_

* * *

 

_**four** _

Iris checked her phone. Again. For the third time in as many minutes.

Joe had already texted her earlier: _has he called you?_

 _No,_ she’d replied, _he hasn’t. You?_

_He’s at work. Quiet, not saying much. Singh won’t even yell at him._

Iris grimaced. That was a bad sign.

It was the anniversary of Nora Allen’s death and Barry wasn’t talking. It varied, what his reaction was. Some years he’d been so determinedly normal that it was even more worrisome than when he was quiet and withdrawn. He’d insisted that Joe and Iris both try not to worry about him on today, but frankly, there was a long tradition between Iris and her father about paying absolutely no mind to what Barry said, for his own good.

Some years he’d go to the cemetery. Other times, he’d go visit his dad in Iron Heights. Neither Iris or Joe fully approved of this, but they said nothing.  Barry needed to be with either of his parents.

Iris had debated with herself whether or not to call or text Barry, not wanting to smother him; they weren’t little kids anymore. Finally, after much inward revising, she sent a simple text to Barry: _I’m here. Do you need anything?_

After sending it, she set her phone determinedly aside and tried to concentrate on her paper. She’d had a date later that night, with a boy from her English class, and she wanted to finish this essay before then.

Her phone didn’t beep.

Iris finishing up the bibliography as she finally started to think Barry really didn’t want to see her today, when the screen of her phone lit up with a text. Iris snatched it up immediately, reading anxiously.

From Barry: _Can you come?_

 _Where?_ she texted back instantly, so relieved and worried to hear from him.

_The cemetery._

_Shit._ Iris’s stomach clenched. It was worse, then.

 _I’ll be right there,_ she texted him and hastily saved her paper and shut down the lid of her laptop. Grabbing her bag, jacket and keys haphazardly, she hurried out, only remembering as she was getting into her car that she had to call her date.

Iris grimaced. She hated not keeping prior commitments, but this was important.

The boy was not particularly understanding. _“Wait, did you get asked out by someone else?”_

“What? No,” Iris said impatiently, as she drove. “Something came up and my best friend needs me,” she explained. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”

 _“Isn’t your best friend a guy?”_ he asked her.

Iris blinked, turning down the street. “Yeah, so?”

 _“Are you dating_ him _then?”_ he asked surily.

Iris parked her car, took her phone from her ear, stared down at it in disbelief for a moment before putting it back to her ear and informing the guy curtly, “Well, I’m definitely not dating _you_ anymore, so.”

She hung up without another word.

It was grey and overcast today, in the late afternoon, miserably fitting. Iris skirted past headstones and plaques, scanning the area for Barry’s figure.

He was sitting at his mom’s grave, head on his knees. His head was bowed and shoulders hunched, like he’d been sitting here for a long time. Iris came up behind him, deliberately rustling her coat and bag so he could hear her. He didn’t raise his head until she sat down next him, the damp grass sinking into her jeans. When he did look at her,  his face was wet and his eyes rimmed with red. Iris said softly, “Hey Bear,” as she put her arm around his shoulders and his head sank down to rest on hers. A muffled sob into her coat escaped him.

Iris pulled him closer, letting him hide his face against her. “Sshh, shh,” she murmured. “It’s okay, Bear, it’s okay. Ssh, shh.”  

He sobbed for a few moments, whole lanky frame shaking against her, and Iris felt her heart howl with shared grief and loss. When he quieted, Iris’s jacket had a damp patch but she didn’t care. She pulled her fingers gently through Barry’s hair, letting him come back to himself. “Hey Bear,” she said again softly.

“It’s never okay,” he said finally, wetly against her. “I keep thinking, _maybe this year it’ll be better,_ or _maybe it won’t be so bad this time_ , but it always is. It always is, or it’s worse.”

“You lost your mom,” Iris said quietly. “There’s no timetable for grief, or recovery. We just–” her breath caught painfully for a moment, before continuing, “We just do the best we can and hope it’s enough. And sometimes it is. So that’s not so bad.”  

Barry took in one deep shuddering breath after another. “I’m sorry I disrupted your date.”

Iris frowned. “Who told you that?”

He shrugged against her tiredly. “Joe mentioned it.”

Iris sighed and kept combing Barry’s hair with her fingers gently. “It’s not important.”

“Yes it is,” Barry said with unexpected vehemence. “It _is_ important, Iris, of course it’s important, _you’re_ important–” he cut himself off abruptly, going back to staring at Nora Allen’s headstone. _Beloved friend and mother_. No mention of _wife._  

“You’re important to me,” Barry said, almost inaudibly. “You’re so important to me, Iris.”

Iris swallowed hard, let her lips rest against his hair, just for a moment. Let herself think impossible things. “You’re important to me too, Bear,” she said gently. “So of course I’m going to come after you. Always.”

He let out a long, exhausted sigh against her, his cheek resting against the lapel of her jacket. He spoke against it, almost too low and muffled to make out. “I love you.”

Iris felt that howl in her heart again, the loss of it. Which didn’t make any sense, because Barry was the one who had lost something. She’d been the one to gain, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything. “Your mom loved you too, Bear. Of course she did.”    

* * *

 

_**five** _

“Okay,” said Linda, “forgive me for saying it–but it has to be said. What the _hell_ was that?”

Iris looked blankly at her, from where she reapplying her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “What the hell was what?”

“That!” Linda exclaimed, gesturing wildly back to the bathroom door. “Back there! Honestly Iris, I love you, but _what the hell._ ”

“What the hell what?” Iris demanded and Linda sighed exasperatedly.

“That,” she said. “That thing with you and Barry. And the food.”

Iris felt her face heat up. “Oh. That.”

Honestly, they’d been sharing plates for as long as Iris could remember, even back before Barry came to live with them. Barry would always give Iris his croutons, Iris would pass him her fries, being slightly less stingy about it than he was. Barry took his fries _very_ seriously. They did that with pizza too, trading bites of whatever new thing they were trying out. Iris always gave Barry her crusts, because he was a weirdo that thought the crust was the best part of the pizza. Or Barry giving her the chip with the most cheese on it when they were splitting a serving of nachos. Or sharing the slurpee at the movie theater.   

It wasn’t that weird.  

“We’ve always done that,” Iris said, carefully recapping her lipstick. “Since we were kids. He used to be such a picky eater and he’d always take the stuff I didn’t want to eat. Like the brussel sprouts.”

Linda screwed her face up. “He likes _brussel sprouts?_ ”

Iris sighed herself. “I know, right? He’s a nerd.”

“We could never be together,” said Linda darkly. “Brussel sprouts are only good fried and dipped in cheese.”

Iris pointed triumphantly at Linda. “ _Right?_ I’ve been telling him that for years.”

“None of that,” said Linda severely, “changes the fact that you two were practically _in each other’s laps,_ sharing food off each other’s plates. Don’t deny it, Iris! I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“We were not,” said Iris firmly, turning away from the mirror.

Her friend snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Iris scowled. “Look, it’s not a big deal, we’re just–” she trailed off, trying to figure out what, exactly, she and Barry were because lately, she didn’t have a damn clue.

Linda patted her arm. “Sweetheart, I say this as your friend–the two of you aren’t _just_ anything.”

 _I know_ , Iris thought. _That’s what I’m afraid of._

**_one_ **

Personally, Barry didn’t see what everyone was making such a fuss about.

Okay, so Iris was sitting in his lap. Okay, so they basically held hands all during dinner. So Joe and Cisco and Caitlin and even Wally walked in on the two of them kissing. This really was not that confusing.

“Just wait a damn minute,” Joe said, lasering a Look back and forth between the two of them. “When the hell did this happen?”

Iris glanced at Barry and raised her eyebrows, slightly. “I don’t know, a few weeks? Maybe?”

“Twenty-five days, five hours and six minutes,” Barry said, because he was that sort of a person.

Iris looked at him fondly, corners of her mouth twitching. “Really?”

“Yeah I know,” he conceded, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. “Don’t judge me.”

Iris chuckled, leaning up against him. “Do I ever?”

“Always,” Barry informed her. “Since we were like, _six.”_

“You two are _sickening,”_ said Cisco, looking torn somewhere between outrage and delight. “And frankly, how is this any different than you two normally act together?”

“She never sat _in his lap_ before,” Wally said, who just looked outraged, none of the delight.

“The kissing is a new development,” Caitlin murmured, though she did look quite happy for them. That was gratifying, and reassuring. Wally would be marginally less likely to murder him.

Joe waved his arms about, putting an end to the debate. “The point is, are the two of you…” he gestured to the air around them, the fact Iris was sitting quite securely, comfortably in Barry’s lap and he had his arms around her waist like they belonged there (and it felt like they did).

Barry leaned back against the chair, feeling the warm, comforting weight of Iris on his lap, her back against his chest, her hair on his shoulder.  All was right with this universe; the Speed Force thrummed happily in his veins. “Honestly guys, it’s not a big deal.”

Everyone looked at him with almost identical expressions of _you ain’t shit son._ Even Caitlin.  Iris murmured, “Who was the one who showed up to our first official date in this universe with the wreaths?”

Barry nuzzled her shoulder. “Worth it.”  

“Okay that’s it,” Wally said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m leaving before I have to go to therapy forever. _Again._ What is wrong with you two?”

“Go away baby brother,” Iris said pleasantly, snuggling into Barry’s chest. “And that goes for the rest of you too.”

“Ya’ll in _my house,_ ” said Joe, but he hauled Wally out the door, even as his youngest son complained the whole way.

Cisco beamed, and gave them both a huge thumbs-up. “My otp has become canon.”

“Cisco,” Caitlin murmured.

“By which I mean, congratulations guys, I’m really happy for you,” Cisco amended hastily. “And, okay! Yeah, see ya.” He scooted out of the room, Caitlin behind him. She only paused for a moment to smile softly at them, affection and pride in her eyes. “I wish you both the best,” she said quietly and shut the door after her.

Barry sighed and let himself nuzzle at the back of Iris’s neck, savoring the warmth and the smell of her perfume. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, honestly.”

Iris tilted her head forward, to give him better access. “What were you expecting?”

“More yelling,” Barry said, not really paying attention to what he was saying any more, preoccupied with the feel of Iris’s skin under his mouth, the warmth and weight of her in his lap. “More ‘I told you so’s’. Also more questions.”

Iris laughed softly, pushing back against his mouth, shifting on his lap. His hands moved to accommodate her, and she suddenly shifted, turning easily on his lap so that they faced each other, her knees now on either side of his legs. He raised his hands so they braced themselves on her rib cage. Iris draped her arms over her shoulders, smiling down at him, eyes warm and soft and affectionate. Her fingers slid into the hair on the back of his head, nails scraping lightly. “Are you happy?” she asked him, because sometimes it was nice to hear it.

Barry stretched up, put his lips at the place where her pulse beat in her throat, not kissing there, just feeling it go faster under his touch. “Beyond words,” he told her pulse, and Iris felt her laugh escape her lungs like silk billowing, the idea that Barry was beyond words. “I love you,” he told her very seriously, but a smile broke out over his face at the sound of the words, easy and light and so available. “I’m glad we got here.”

“I love you too,” Iris said, letting one hand fist lightly in his hair, pulling his head back far enough to look him in the face. “ _Finally_ ,” she added and drank Barry’s laugh into her mouth like it was water.    


End file.
